Who You Left Behind
by lovefordoitsu
Summary: Fighting the memories of the two men she loved, Amelia is raising two young countries alone in the city of New York. But can she handle loving the two little girls who were born to replace the two countries she lost in the World Wars? Warning: prestory and flashback character deaths. Rated T for this reason. UsxFrxUk in flashbacks, with CanUs in later chapter. A fem!America story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. All credit to the original author._

Amelia paced the small walkway outside of the large school doors. She hadn't felt right about sending the girls here, but it was a great school and they needed an education. After all, countries were held to a higher standard than other children their age and she would need to put them through college one day, so the brown brick walls of Westbrook Beginners Institution seemed like the best place for them to be. But the ivy covered landscape and concrete angels on the front steps left her feeling lost. Amelia felt that kindergarten should be fun and friendly, not cold and forbidding like the top-notch private school her two little girls were in now. She waited impatiently, trying not to burst into the school and grab her two small angels, whisking the, back home and shutting the door. She had never been a mother to shelter the girl's from new experiences in life, but this was beyond the scope of even her patience.

Before she could cause a scene, though, the school bell rang, signaling the end of the first day. Students came rushing out, their neat school uniforms mussing as then tripped over each other to get to their parents. Amelia stepped up on the tips of her toes, trying to spot her children. But they were lost somewhere in a crowd of grey polo shirts. She wasn't sure what to do. She needed to find them, but she couldn't just go barreling through a crowd of kindergartens, it might upset some parents and probably embarrass the girls. She felt a soft nudge at her leg and a tug on her arm. Looking down, she found one of the two most important people in her life. She kneeled, her blue eyes meeting her daughter's green ones. She ran her hand over the top of her long blonde hair, which was tied back in a braid. The little British girl looked upset, like someone had told her that fairies didn't exist again. Amelia shuddered, remembering the last time that had happened. She had found both girls on the floor, fighting to the point of blows. She had to ground both of them for a week with no tea or sweets.

"Alice, is everything okay?" she questioned, kissing the top of her daughter's head. The little Brit nodded, but there were tears forming in her eyes, threatening to spill. Amelia knew that look very well, but she also knew that Alice wasn't going to tell her anything within earshot of other students. She picked up the little girl, balancing Alice on her hip and waiting for her other little one. The crowd had somewhat dispersed now and it wasn't hard to find the somewhat taller of the two, her little curls glistening in the sunlight as she bounced her way over to her mother. Unlike her sister, the little French girl had refused to let Amelia pull her hair back, instead insisting it flow free and wavy. She also refused to wear just the bland grey and black school uniforms, forcing her mother to tie a bright red ribbon under the collar of the polo shirt. She caught sight of Amelia and waved, making her way over to her mother. Amelia held out her hand, grabbing the tiny one the French child held out to her.

"And how was your day, Marianne?" she questioned, noticing the bright smile on her daughters face. Marianne had always had an easier time making friends and getting along with others than Alice, who preferred to company of the fairies that Amelia couldn't see. Marianne just beamed up at her before tugging quickly on her sisters dangling foot, earning a sharp yelp from a still-highly upset Alice. Amelia rolled her eyes, picking Marianne up in her free arm and heading towards the car. She sometimes wondered if they would ever get along, but she often caught Marianne reading to Alice at night when the two didn't know their mother was watching. She treasured those moments, wishing she could be a part of them but not wanting to interfere. She remembered that the habit of hiding they were really friends was an old one for the French and English countries. Even Francis and Arthur…. She shook her head, trying not to pull up memories that would leave her sobbing on the side walk. It had been several years, but the pain was still fresh for the American representative_._ Even with the girls now in her life, nothing could fill the hole that the World Wars had blown into her heart.

Clearing her thoughts, she shifted Marianne so the girl was holding onto her back, giving her a free hand to open the car door. Alice climbed out of her arms and into her booster seat without a word. Marianne was a bit harder. She constantly insisted that she was not a toddler and should not have to sit in ''that child's seat that was for babies and people too short". Amelia had to once again remind her that although she was slightly taller than her sister, she was still not tall enough to ride without the seat yet. She struggled, insisting that she either be allowed to ride without the seat or walk home. Amelia just rolled her eyes, buckling the little one in against her will. It didn't help that the French girl had taken to yelling important historical quotes at her mother whenever she was told to do something she didn't want to do. Last week, she had yelled "give me liberty or give me death!" across the house when Amelia tried to force her to try on her school uniform. Amelia's reply, however, is that she couldn't use rebellion until she was at least tall enough to drive the car, which generally left Marianne stumped for a few minutes and Alice on the floor laughing at her sister.

Jumping into the driver side of the car, she buckled herself in and started the engine, pulling away from the school and heading towards their apartment in New York. Marianne talked the entire way, listing every detail of her day from the minute she walked into class and saw no one else wearing color to how the people in the cafeteria cooked about as well and Alice, who still couldn't make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich without it turning out awful. Alice, for the most part, kept silent, only adding a few words here or there to insult her sister .Amelia could tell Alice was upset, but knew she probably wouldn't talk about it until they were alone. The brit was just funny that way. They pulled into the parking garage of their apartment complex. Not wanting the girls to be exposed to the city life twenty-four/seven, Amelia moved them to a complex just inside the city limits. The rent was a bit higher than she normally paid, but it was a bigger and nicer area. The apartment was a two bedroom, one bathroom space with a living room and kitchen included. Amelia hoped to one day move into an actual house, but she was afraid it would be too empty for the girls to grow up in. Opening the front door, she flipped on the light of the living room, nearly falling as the girls rushed past her, throwing their stuff down on the couch. Alice headed straight for the large bookshelf in the corner, while Marianne pulled out the art supplies she hid under the couch. Amelia just smiled, closing and locking the door behind her before heading to the kitchen to start cooking supper.

_Author's note: Thank you guys so much for reading this! I will try to keep it updated regularly, as well as rewrite my other fanfiction, Blood Red Snow. Please, if you have any questions, comments, or concerns, rate and review. Also, my tumblr url is Burgersandfrenchwine, so look me up if you would like to chat!_


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner time was probably the hardest time of Amelia's day. With two little girls with completely different tastes in food, it could be quite difficult to find something both of them would eat. She made the mistake once of trying to feed them both scones that Arthur had taught her to make when she was a little colony. Alice loved them and asked for another, digging into them like they were candy. Marianne, however, had a little bit different reaction. It took Amelia three weeks to hear properly again, she had no clue Marianne could reach that octave. She had thought about enrolling her in a music class after scream.

She had given up before and tried just taking them to McDonald's for a cheeseburger. That incident was worse than the scone one. The girls had the good sense not to make a scene in a restaurant, but after a certain little French girl pulled her to the side and told her she would rather eat the scones, Amelia got the idea pretty quickly. She then spent three hours trying to find a restaurant they would both eat at, which of course would be the most expensive restaurant in New York City. This, along with the seventy-five dollar bill on the table after their meal, completely ended any attempt to get the two to eat fast food.

So Amelia got creative, working around the foods both absolutely hated. Considering Marianne's intense palate and Alice's lack of one, she usually found a happy medium in a cookbook Canada had given her when she first started out on her own. She never thought she would actually ever use it, considering she normally just ate fast food. She had to admit though, her cooking had gotten better and several of the recipes were actually pretty simple. Her personal favorite, although she would never tell Maple, was the pancakes with berries and whip cream.

Incidentally, that exact dish she was serving tonight. Soon, the smell of fresh pancakes filled the tiny apartment, making both girls stop in their activities to wander into the kitchen. Alice tugged gently at her mother's pants leg, looking up innocently. "Can I help?" she questioned, hoping she could at least make the cooking go faster. Marianne screamed and tackled her sister. "No! I don't want to blow up!" she wailed dramatically, struggling with the Brit on the floor. "Get off me frog!" came a muffled reply from under Marianne's elbow.

Amelia managed to get the last batch of pancakes off the pan and onto a plate before the two knocked her over. She hit the floor with a thud, nearly crushing Marianne in the process. "Girls!" she scolded, actually surprised she was actually having to get stern with the two. She picked Marianne up by the collar, separating them by pulling Alice by the arm. "Now listen here, if you are going to continue this get out of the kitchen!" Alice's face fell and her arms went limp. She tried very hard to be a proper young lady and cooking was a skill she felt she needed to learn. Those lovely green eyes filled up with tears, but they didn't spill over. Amelia sighed, knowing exactly where that habit came from. Arthur rarely cried unless he was drunk. The only time she had ever seen it happen was after her revolution, and even then he covered his face so she wouldn't see. She guessed the need to be strong was just ingrained in the British Empire, which was why its new representative now stood before her, trying to keep her face neutral. Marianne, on the other hand, puffed herself up like a balloon. Unlike her sister, the French representative got offended when scolded for small things. She wanted to be the strong, free person she had heard the last representative was, the strong willed woman her mother had turned out to be. Amelia couldn't help but smile at that one, considering how much it reminded her of Francis. But she also knew how lonely Marianne could get, even though she surrounded herself with friends.

Amelia sighed, knowing she had lost the battle. "Alright, you both can help. Marianne, you can help me make the whip cream. Alice, you get to smash the berries" she offered, holding out two wooden spoons.

A smile broke out on Alice's face, lighting up the room, while Marianne gave a small smirk, trying to pretend she wasn't completely excited about it. The two rushed over to the closet, grabbing the small aprons and pulling their hair back before running back over to their mother. Marianne pulled over a chair to stand on so she could properly reach the counter. Alice just held her hands up, waiting for Amelia to pick her up and sit her on the counter. Spoon in hand, she began mashing the mixture of berries in a large bowl her mother had already set aside.

Amelia watched her for a second, making sure she was actually using the spoon rather than her hands, before turning back to Marianne. What she saw made her burst out laughing, considering the normally clean French girl was covered in sugar and cream, her eyes wide in surprise. Amelia picked the little one up off the table, handing her a towel. "Its okay" she encouraged, still laughing. "You got the whipped cream made right? I guess it just liked you so much it had to hug you. Now lets eat!" She pulled out a couple of plated and placed two pancakes on each, loading them with berries and whipped cream. She placed both girls on the table, handing them their plates. Marianne talked nonstop as she ate, keeping Amelia's attention for nearly half an hour. She soon noticed though, Alice had the same expression she had came home with. "What's wrong A?" She questioned, not liking the demeanor one bit. Alice looked up at her mother, a little bit thoughtful. "Mom, why don't we have a dad?"

Amelia froze, knowing she would have to answer this question sooner or later. She had been dreading it for nearly six years. In truth, the girl's weren't even her children. Countries rarely had children of their own, choosing to instead adopt younger colonies or countries as their younger siblings. Amelia had chosen to have the girls call her mom, even though she treated them more like her younger siblings, that way they would have at least on parent. She had always envied American children who had parents to call their own and she wanted that for the girls."Alice, what brought this question?" she asked, afraid of what the Brit may have heard. Alice looked down, slightly embarrassed at her on question. "One of the kids at school said you had to have both a mom and a dad. She said I was weird for only having one." She looked back up, blushing. Even Marianne was quiet and waiting for an answer.

Amelia sighed, finally understanding Alice's mood right after school. Getting asked that question would put any child on the edge. But still, it wasn't a question Amelia was ready to answer. She didn't want to alienate the girls from their chance of feeling normal by explaining how countries worked, nor did she want to lie to them and tell them that their previous countries representative were their fathers. So, she gave them the best line she could. "Well, I think boys are gross and we don't need one." It was a cop out and made very little sense, but the two bought it for now. Alice returned to her pancakes, looking a little bit more relaxed and smiling.

Dinner finished without any further incidents, as did bath time. Marianne was just happy to get the whipped cream out of her hair and Alice liked the clean feeling. She managed to get them both snuggled into their beds without incident, both exhausted from their first day at school. Marianne was snuggled up under her favorite midnight blue bedspread with while sheets and red pillows, her hair in multiple braids so it would be curly in the morning. Alice was cuddled up to a Union Jack pillow shaped suspiciously like a tea cup. "Good night mom" came the dual reply to the small kiss she planted on each one's forehead. Amelia smiled and gently closed the door, returning to the kitchen to clean the whipped cream off the ceiling from Marianne's earlier incident.


	3. Chapter 3

_The smell of the blood was overwhelming and the moans of dying men had her nerves on the edge. Amelia cringed as another man threw up all over her white nurse's uniform before slumping back down into his cot, unable to move much more. Most of these men were wounded French soldiers from the trenches, dying from the deadly poisons and shots their bodies had received. Others were deathly ill from the disease spread amongst the muck and grime, the close lying space where the men ate, slept, lived, and died was a breeding ground for all illnesses. Amelia trudged over to the supply closet, pulling out a fresh apron and throwing the now soiled one in a nearby hamper. But as she exited the closet, she caught the eye of one of the doctors, who pointed a strange man in her direction. The man was in full dress, his rank clearly displayed across his British uniform. He made his way over to her, causing her some confusion. She had not heard from Francis for several weeks and she feared the worst, but that did not explain the British officer. Her heart stopped when she saw the letter in his hands and full realization mixed with denial set in. "My lady, are you the American woman?" he questioned, not sure how to address her. She simply nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I am truly sorry" he continued, handing her the letter and bowing before walking away. She knew what it was, and who it was for. Arthur had declared her his next of kin before her revolution. As far as she knew, the title had never been revoked. Her hands shook as she moved to open the envelope. "Arthur Kirkland-deceased"_

Amelia sat up straight in bed, tears falling down her face. "Breath, just breath" she reminded herself, trying to stop herself from shaking. It had been several nights since she dreamed about Arthur's letter, considering other dreams haunted her much more frequently, but it still killed her inside. Just as she was managing to calm herself down, her alarm clock went off. A small sigh escaped her as she headed for the bathroom to start getting ready.

Mornings for Amelia were normally a mixture of post-nightmare chills and fun-time with the girls. Since just getting up and getting ready had yet to work, they had made it into a game. Whichever girl managed to get completely dressed with her hair done, teeth brushed, and uniform on correctly first was the winner of the day. Originally, she had thought the plan wouldn't work without some kind of reward, but the girls' wanted to beat each other so much they did it just for bragging rights. Sometimes it got out of hand though, like when Alice woke up three hours early to try and get a head start during their first week of preschool, but couldn't reach the lights and knocked over one of the few decorations Amelia had in the apartment. The decoration, which just happened to be a vase, spilt water and flowers all over the couch and Marianne's school uniform, which had been left out for Amelia to iron the next day. Or like the time Marianne locked Alice in the closet so she could get Amelia to do her hair first. It had taken the American almost thirty minutes to find which closet the Brit was in.

Thankfully, this morning was not one of the bad ones. The girls were quite exhausted from the previous day, so it took her a few minutes to get them up. Marianne managed to roll out of bed and onto the floor on her own, while Alice had to be carried to the living room. Once there though, the real fun began. Amelia slipped on her roller skates, setting her business heels by the front door. "Ready" she questioned. The two girls nodded, both standing on a couch cushion. Amelia pushed off of the counter to get herself rolling before shouting "Go!" Alice raced to the bedroom first, slamming the door on Marianne, who was just a tad bit slower. Undeterred, Marianne raced to Amelia's room with her uniform in her hands. Amelia skated into the kitchen, throwing a scone and a croissant onto different plates. She rushed back into the living room, placing the plates onto the coffee table before skating to pick up Alice, who had emerged full dressed, and tossing her onto the couch. The Brit landed with a small squeal of laughter and started on her scone, while Amelia tossed an freshly dressed Marianne in the same manner. Once both girls were on the couch, she slid on her knee behind them, two hair bands and a hair brush in her hands. She pulled Alice's hair up first before starting on Marianne's, making sure all of the tangles were out and the curls laid just the right way. Due to the crumbly nature of the scone, Alice fell behind, allowing Marianne to reach the bathroom first. She heard the little one mumble something under her breath that sounded surprisingly similar to a curse, but before she could act on it, Alice was rushing past her to the kitchen sink, where she magically produced her toothbrush and started brushing her teeth. Amelia guessed she had hidden it in her pocket during bath time the night before, but was surprised she hadn't noticed it. She took off her skates and pulled on her heels. She hated to be this dressed up, but there was a meeting in Congress today and she had to look decent. "Five…four…three" she started the count down, both girls rushing to her at once. Somehow, Marianne managed to make it to her first, grabbing her hand a split second before Alice did. With both girls dressed, and an extremely happy Marianne bragging her superior skills to a not so happy Alice, Amelia pulled both girls out of the apartment, locking the door behind them.

The car ride to the school was anything but silent, with the two fighting over that morning's resulting win for Marianne. The two went back and forth, with Alice pulling out random name, which also made up most of Marianne's comebacks. That was, though, until they passed a French restaurant. Amelia had barely even noticed it, until she heard Marianne trying to sound out the name in the back seat, only to fail miserably. She turned around as soon as she stopped at a red light, worried. "Marianne, can you say that word?" she questioned. The little girl just shook her head, looking confused. "Do you know what it means?" Amelia continued. Another negative response, Marianne really had no clue. Amelia cursed under her breath, silently kicking herself. Alice spoke up, concerned. "Mom, what is wrong?" she questioned in perfect English. Amelia looked up, smiling to hide her mistake. "Nothing dear" she replied as she pulled up to the school. She parked on the side of the road, unbuckled the girls, and waved as the headed towards the building. Marianne blew her a kiss while Alice just waved back, smiled a wide as she could. Amelia sent up a silent prayer for their protection before driving off, focusing on her current problem.

She had forgotten that countries weren't born knowing their own language. They had to learn it just like every child in their nation. She had forgotten, and now the new representative of France couldn't speak French! She banged her head down on the steering wheel, causing the horn to honk and a few cars to swerve around her. She was going to have to find a French tutor; there was no way around it. But she couldn't just hire someone out of thin air. Unless…. She pulled out her phone, scanning through the contacts, only half expecting to find the one she was looking for. Miraculously, it was there. She dialed the number, bouncing in her seat as it rang. Finally, someone picked up.

"Hello?" came the quiet answer, barely a whisper but as clear as a bell.

"Matthew, I need your help" She replied, praying the northern country wouldn't mind.

_Author's note: So I decided to add Canada after all, but how big of a part he will play in this fanfic is still a mystery to even myself. As always, please review, I enjoy feedback when I can get it. Thanks~~_


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew hadn't heard from Amelia in several years, so when he saw her name on his caller I.D, he thought it had been some kind of mistake. How many years had it been? fifty? One hundred? He had honestly lost count. Countries didn't age like normal people, so years were both short and long events for most of them. Back before the wars, one hundred years would have seemed like nothing, especially to the older empires. But now, they were ages. Part of it was the realization you were completely alone, the waiting.

He answered the cellphone, trying to make his voice somewhat louder for her to hear. As she spoke, her voice sounded urgent and anxious, but not fearful or upset. Even after all those years, Matthew could still tell the different emotions in the American's voice. "Amelia calm down, is anyone hurt" he questioned, just making sure his instinct was right. "No, everyone is fine, the girls are safe at school" came the reply, along with a long breath, presumably the other's attempt to relax. Matthew nodded, now at ease. "Is it urgent or can we discuss it over lunch? I am not far away from the border, I can be in New York in less than an hour."

Amelia breathed out, still trying to navigate through traffic when the other asked her if everyone was safe. She knew that was probably the first conclusion Matthew would jump to, it was extremely rare of her to call. She glanced at her clock when he suggested lunch. She had a meeting in Congress, which was four hour drive from where they would meet. But she should make it back in time to have dinner with him afterwards. The meeting would probably be one of the rare short ones they had, considering almost everyone agreed on their course of action. She figure the math in her head before answering, " I have a meeting in Congress, so I wont be back in time. But I should be able to do dinner if you would like. I can bring the girls as well. It has been a while since you have seen them."

Matthew smiled a bit at the arrangement before saying goodbye and hanging up. It would be good to see Amelia again, she sounded a lot better than the last time they talked. After Arthur died, Amelia withdrew just a bit, going quiet and not as cheerful for a few years while she mourned for him. She was just starting to act like her normal self again when the second war broke out, calling all of them back into the line of fire. He didn't know exactly when she completely lost it, but he knew it was close to the time they were told of Francis's death. He watched her sink into a personality he knew she had never had before, a dark personality that ripped a hole between her and Ivan, with everyone else caught in the crossfire. He just hoped it wasn't wishful thinking that she was starting to return to her old self again.

The meeting in congress was a boring as Amelia thought it was going to be. Just minor changes to a few laws that generally would not affect the average person were made, mostly school laws such as how many seconds a bus driver had to listen for a train and the penalty for speeding through a school zone. Nothing that really required her attention, but she was asked to attend so she went none the less. Luckily, the time calculations had been right and she had just barely made it to pick the girls up from school before heading home to get them ready. As usual, Alice ran into her arms as soon as she stepped out of the car, hugging her mother as tight as she could. She didn't look as upset as she had the day before, which quelled some of Amelia's fear that the question would pop up again. Marianne, however, was nowhere to be seen. She scanned the area several times, her panic levels rising, "Alice, where is your sister?" she asked, the worry clear in her voice. Just as she got the question out, there came a loud honk from behind her. Amelia jumped, nearly dropping the English child, and spun around to see Marianne sitting in the front seat, laughing wildly at her own prank. Amelia stared at the little French girl for a little while, shocked, before she started laughing, doubling over with Alice still attached to her hip.

"Marianne Joan Bonnefoy, you little monster." She scolded half-heartedly, placing Alice in her seat and handing her a water bottle she had filled with tea earlier. She turned back to Marianne, who was so pleased with her own prank she actually sat in her seat and buckled up without a fight, bragging about her ability to scare her mother. Amelia just rolled her eyes and drove, checking the time every so often. They were running a bit behind, but not so much to really worry about. "Girl, we have to go home and get ready quick, okay?" she announced to the two in the back seat. The girls looked at each other, knowing what that meant. They only ever had to get ready quickly if it involved dinner. Marianne smiled slyly, asking the million dollar question, "Where are we going momma?" Amelia smiled, "Mr. Williams is coming down for dinner so we are going out to eat." Marianne jumped up and down in her seat, not really caring who was coming to dinner if it meant eating somewhere fancy. Alice, however, was a bit more worried about the actual details. "Who?" she questioned, causing Amelia to laugh out loud from the sheer irony of it all. "Mr. William's is the Canadian representative and a very old friend. We are almost the exact same age and used to say we were siblings. You two have met him before, although you were a bit too young to remember him." She answered, still chuckling.

They arrived home in record time, rushing in to get ready. Marianne, who had no problem running through the apartment without clothes, was completely ready to leave in less than ten minutes. Alice took a little while longer, her pigtails getting caught when she tried to change her clothes. Luckily though, Amelia managed to detangle them without messing them up. Although they were late getting home, they were ready to leave right on time, both girls dressed in to the nines.


	5. Chapter 5

Matthew had been sitting at the restaurant for quite some time, sitting alone at a table for four. For anyone else, one person sitting at a table all by himself would earn him stares or at least curious glances, but Matthew rarely had such problems. It was the exact opposite, actually. His waiter had yet to arrive to take his drink order, not that he was in a hurry. But twice another waiter would try to seat other patrons at his table, getting most of them seated before they realized there was already someone in one of the chairs. He sighed as the seconds ticked away, figuring Amelia had forgotten all about dinner. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened, and probably not the last either. There had been one trip to Europe he had walked away for ten minutes to look at the price of a new set of dishes for his kitchen. He was with Amelia and Arthur at the time, back before Amelia had won her independence and he had followed suit. When he came back, they were gone. They had forgotten him in the middle of London. It took him three days to find his way back to Arthur's house.

He was just starting to contemplate leaving when Amelia waltzed up, two little girls in tow. They had been on time, until they got halfway to the restaurant and Amelia realized in her rush she had left her wallet at home, with both her driver's license and debit card. She had to drive around the block and rush back to the apartment to get them, leaving her nearly twenty minutes late. Not to mention the two girls fought the entire way about who got to sit next to her at dinner, which explained the relieved look on her face when she found Matthew had grabbed a round table for the four to sit at.

Matthew stood, staring at her in shock for a moment before remembering himself. She was Amelia, that was easy to see, but she was not the same woman he had last said goodbye to. Her long blonde hair had been cut short, framing her face perfectly. The casual clothes she used to wear, no matter what the occasion, had been traded for a new look that accented her every asset, the boots traded for heels. But most noticeable was the color that had returned to her cheeks. The last time he had seen her, she looked pale, worn down like a ghost. In comparison, the healthy blush that now spread across her cheeks was welcome sight.

She smiled when she saw him, trying desperately to ignore a small French girl hanging from her arm. Marianne was a little less than happy at their earlier delay, trying her best to skip the introductions and get straight to dinner. Alice, on the other hand, had chosen to hide behind her mother's legs when faced with a new representative. She was used to dealing with normal people, but the thought of meeting another representative like herself and her family scared her. Amelia placed a hand on the Brit's head, pushing her forwards with an encouraging smile. Matthew caught on pretty quickly and kneeled down, holding his hand out to Alice.

"Hi, Alice" he whispered, smiling at her. Alice's eyes grew wide in shock, causing both Matthew and Amelia to chuckle.

"How do you know my name?" she asked timidly, those sea-green eyes darting back and forth between the new man and her mother.

"I met you before, when you were really little. Plus, there is no mistaking those pretty green eyes of yours, they match Arthur's perfectly"

If Alice was surprised before, it was nothing compared to how she felt at the mention of her country's former representative. She looked back at her mother for an explanation, her mouth formed in a little "o".

Amelia smiled weakly, not surprised by her response, but still not ready for the questions she knew Alice would one day ask. "Mr. Williams used to live with Arthur, just like me. We used to call each other brother and sister, because at that time we all imagined ourselves as one big family" she explained before turning to Marianne, who had stopped pulling momentarily to listen in on the conversation. "He also knew Francis very well. He originally lived with him before moving in with Arthur and I."

Matthew turned to the little girl, smiling encouragingly through his surprise. If he didn't know any better, it looked as if the child could biologically be Amelia's. She was the perfect mixture of Amelia and Francis, right down to the cool of her eyes, one shade lighter than Amelia's liberty blue, but not quite Francis's either. "Bonjour, mon cher. Comment ca va?" he questioned in perfect French, earning him a confused look. It suddenly became all too clear what Amelia needed. Marianne couldn't understand, let alone speak, her home language. But why did Amelia need him to teach her? He knew Amelia could speak perfect French; he had overheard many of their conversations during world meetings. It didn't make sense. That was, until he looked up at her and caught the look in her eyes. Those eyes held pure pain, signaling she wasn't ready to speak it again.

Matthew had to admit, the thought was a curious one. Everyone had expected Amelia's reaction to Arthur's death. Although her revolution had renounced their relationship, they had eventually patched things up and became close friends. It was only natural for her to morn in the way she did. It was her complete breakdown when Francis died that confused everyone, including Matthew. Most of the others wrote it off as her feelings from losing Arthur had just intensified and the fact Ivan's boss was big a threat to the freedom Amelia valued. And until that moment, Matthew had agreed with them. But that look told a different story, one he had a feeling he would eventually find out.

A small tug on his hand pulled his attention back to Marianne, who was apparently waiting for him to translate. He smiled at her, "I said, 'hello, my dear. How are you?'' Marianne's face lit up, bringing a smile back to Amelia's face.

"I am good, sir!" she exclaimed as she walked past him, picking a seat at the table. Amelia just rolled her eyes and picked up Alice, placing her in the adjacent seat, nodding for Matthew to take his seat as well.

Dinner went by peacefully, with Marianne doing most of the talking and Alice throwing in her opinion when her sister stopped to breath. Both seemed delighted to talk to the Canadian, who spent most of the time just listening and smiling. It had been a while since he had spent time with any of the other representatives, so just listening really didn't bother him as much as it used to. The girls both had wild imaginations with two different styles, and it was easy to tell just how close their personalities were to their predecessors', although major differences stood out, keeping him on his toes.

So it was quite disheartening for everyone when the light faded outside and they finished up eating. Amelia had been rather quiet for herself, content to watch the girls interact with Matthew. They both warmed up to him quickly, which wasn't really hard to do. Matthew was one of those people who everyone got along with, when they noticed him that is. She called for the check when she caught Alice yawning, shooting their guest a warning look when he took out his wallet. Matthew grimaced, clearly displeased with having anyone pay for his meal, but another look from Amelia shut him up.

By the time the waitress returned with her card, Alice was passed out on the table and Marianne was not far behind. Amelia stood, Matthew mirroring her actions. "Would you like me to help you get them home?" he questioned, his voice barely audible above Alice's quiet snoring.

"Yeah if you don't mind. I kinda need to talk to you."

"About her language, eh?"

"Yeah, you remember where my apartment is?"

"Of course"

The Canadian nodded, picking up the small Brit as Amelia lifted Marianne. They walked in silence to her car, not really sure what to say to each other. It had been so long, it was like they had everything and nothing to say at once. With the girls buckled in safely, Matthew nodded and walked to his own car, following closely behind her through the New York traffic.

"Amelia, why can't she speak French?"

The question was the first thing they had actually said to each other all night. It was a simple question, but the answer it called for was much bigger than either was willing to admit.

"I don't know how to teach her. She needs someone who has spoken the language all their life, not a woman who only knows the basics."

"You speak French perfectly, I have heard you before"

"Not really, I can only speak phrases. I can't teach her how to put things together or how to sound out words I have never seen."

Matthew stared at her, knowing something wasn't right. Amelia had never been one to say "I can't". She was the hero, the one who always took on a challenge, no matter what it was.

They were sitting on her couch, the girls already tucked in and asleep, drinking hot chocolate out of mismatched glasses. Apparently, the girls had ended up breaking most of her fine china, so her old tea sets had been stored away for safe keeping. It was late, but Matthew had reservations at a hotel not far away and it wasn't like he couldn't just drive home if he needed.

"Did….something happen with Francis?" he questioned, finally putting out the question he had been dwelling on all night.

Amelia flinched, sighing as she set her hot chocolate down. "Francis and I were dating when…it happened." She explained, not ready to tell him the full details of her relationship. They had kept it mostly private, not wanting to start issues with Arthur or drag each other into wars. The system had worked well, until the World Wars. Then, it should have stopped. They should have come clean and aided each other more, instead of fighting what seemed like completely separate wars.

Matthew nodded, surprised they had managed to keep it a secret for so long but expecting it after watching Amelia's reactions that night. "I see…is Marianne….?"

"Be realistic dude, she's only six years old. Francis died years before she was brought to me. There's no way"

"Just checking." He relied, standing up and smiling his normal polite smile. "I would be happy to teach her French, but only if you will let Alice join in. She doesn't have to, but I think it would be a good idea for both of them to know multiple languages. Not everyone is going to be tolerant of their lack of linguistics. And eventually, they will have to go to their own countries. They need to be prepared for that."

"I know, but not yet. I don't care if she learns French, but don't burden them with the task of being full representatives yet. Let them enjoy being kids for just a few more years."

"Alright, but remember. They, like us, are connected to their people. The sooner they make that connection, the stronger they will be, and the less likely they are to get hurt."

"I know dude, I know." She answered, standing as well. She embraced him briefly before walking him to the door. "I will see you tomorrow when they get out of school."


	6. Chapter 6

"Non, you are trying to sound them out in English. Try remembering the different alphabet pronunciations."

Amelia smiled as she leaned against the wall, watching the lessons from a distance. It had been nearly a month since Matthew had agreed to help with Marianne's French and, although it was slow, it was easy to see some progress being made. The child was picking up the language with some difficulty, which originally alarmed Amelia, but Matthew had assured her it was simply because she was naturally trying to switch it to her first language, which required a deeper and more intimate association with the words than normal learning. Her mind was trying to associate the feelings and thoughts originally meant for each word, rather than simply comparing them to their English translation. Amelia supposed it made sense, considering how no language held the same weight to her as English did. She could speak several of them, considering a large portion of the American population was multi-cultural, but she always had to think back to what each word meant in English before she attached any emotion to them. Marianne would have to get past that process in order to efficiently connect with her home society.

It wasn't much easier on the girl's confidence when her English sister picked up the language much faster than any of them anticipated. Alice had been uninterested in learning the language at first, but when Amelia started trying to speak French around the house to help Marianne, she decided she did not want to rely on a translator to decipher everything her mother said. But, unlike her sister, there was no reason for the Brit to disconnect the two languages in her mind. So she learned rather quickly just by learning the English meanings to the French words. The problem with Alice's linguistics would come later, when she had to switch to a purely British accent and rearrange the meanings of several words to match their original English definition.

The American representative sighed, the sight of the two sitting at the table with Matthew a bitter-sweet one. On one hand, she knew this was an important part of every representative's education and it meant the girls were well on their way to taking their destined places, but it also reminded her they were not hers to keep forever. And the specific language they were learning still brought back painful memories. She closed her eyes, moving around the corner, headed to her own room, an action that did not escape Matthew notice.

The Canadian representative had been around the three long enough to know when something was wrong with each of them. Alice was the hider. She just went even quieter and her language got a little messy. Marianne was the honest one, she would not only tell everyone exactly what the problem was, but would also demand immediate action, a habit so akin to Francis it was hilarious at times. Amelia, though, was the runner. She was the hero, the one who never admitted to a problem outright. It was easy to see the connection between the way she handled herself and the way Alice tried to, but Matthew wasn't all together sure if the habit had not originated with the previous British representative, a question he would never dare to ask Amelia.

He smiled down at Marianne, who had just manage to speak a short sentence without having to stop and think about the meaning of each word. "I think that's enough for today. You are doing well." He encouraged, beaming down at her. She nodded, jumping up from the table and instantly running to grab her art supplies. The blonde man just shook his head, rising to follow Amelia. She had agreed to start speaking French in front of Marianne, but he was worried about the toll the language had to be taking on her. Even if she and Francis had never been serious, it still had to be devastating.

"Hey, are you okay?" he called out, finding her leaning against the wall of the hallway with her eyes closed.

"Huh?" she questioned, opening her eyes and facing him. It wasn't hard to see she had been zoned out, somewhere lost in her own memories.

"Are you okay?" he repeated, his voice rising a little.

She smiled sadly, nodding a little and walking back towards him. "Yeah, just thinking."

He bit his lip, contemplating his next move. He knew when something was truly bothering Amelia, she would never own up to it. But he also knew the story she kept hidden was not solely hers to know. Arthur and Francis had meant as much to him as they had to her. And the girls needed to know the lives of those who came before them.

"I think its time" He stated, his violet eyes meeting hers. She looked back at him in confusion. "Its time I heard this story. Its time the girls heard this story."

He watched as the stunned look crossed her face, followed swiftly by anger. But before she could open her mouth to tell him off, Alice stepped out from her hiding place around the corner, capturing both of their attention. "What story?" She questioned, looking back and forth between Amelia and Matthew. Matthew looked back up at Amelia, not sure what to do. Although he knew they needed to know, he also knew it wasn't his place to tell them. Amelia just looked at her daughter though, the confliction clear across her face.

Perhaps, it was time. They both were old enough to understand most of the story. And, they needed to know them, the men that carried their countries for so long. But still, was she ready to tell it? Could she do it without breaking down and crying? Probably not, but she had to try. Deep down, she knew she had to. "Grab your blanket and a pillow and meet me in the living room. I have a bedtime story for you." She directed, smiling down gently at the little one. Alice's face lit up instantly, almost distracting her from the satisfied smile on Matthew's face. The Brit rushed past her, followed by Marianne. Apparently, she would need to take their eavesdropping skills more seriously in the future.

"Once upon a time, there lived a small girl in a new land. A land rich with beautiful woods and lovely mountains. It could provide everything the girl ever needed, except the love of other people. The girl had a name. At least, a name she had given herself. But there was no one to tell her name to, so she just called herself A." She began after they had all settled in. They had pushed the couch back as far as it could go, sitting on the floor together on pallets they had made from their blankets. Alice and Marianne were lying on their stomachs, the head resting on their hands while staring at Amelia. Behind them, Matthew was sitting on the couch cushions, quietly listening while leaning back against the furniture.

"A was a lively little girl. She liked to swim in the lakes and climb the mountains in her land. She spent her days fishing, berry picking, and playing with the animals. And, for a while, A thought she was happy.

Then, one day, a large ship came to her shore. It was huge and filled with a type of animal she had never seen before. It took her a little while to figure out what the animals were. The ship had brought her other people. They set up camp along her beach, pitching tents and burning sticks to keep warm. And she watched them, creeping around the camp without being seen in order to study the people who looked just like her. There were two among them who the others seemed to obey. One was a man with short, dirty-yellow hair and eyes the same color as the sea. The other had long, wavy hair the same color as straw and eyes that matched the night sky. The blue-eyed man spoke a strange language she couldn't quite understand, but she could hear every emotion and piece of music in his voice. The other one talked so clearly she understood every word, but they seemed harsher and less smooth than his companion. They had just been standing there, admiring her beach when they saw her peeking out of the bushes. She ducked back down, but they had already caught sight of her and were running after her. They thought she was one of their own people, not someone who had been there before they arrived. The green-eyed one caught her and picked her up, studying her curiously. She couldn't help but look back, trapped at his innocent looking face. All around her, the men were yelling at each other, trying to figure out which one of them had brought a child. He smiled at her, laughing a little as he realized his mistake. 'And what do they call you?' he questioned, putting her back down on the ground and kneeling in front of her.

'Who are they?' She replied, not quite understanding the figure of speech. The question made him laugh even more, catching the attention of the other man, who walked over to join them as well.

The two men looked at each other, frowning before looking back to her. 'Who are you?' one of them asked. Thought back to her name. The one she had given herself. The one…you two will have to find out tomorrow night."

Amelia chuckled as she stopped her story, noticing the time on the clock. The girls groaned in union, not happy at the interruption. Matthew shook his head, like he was coming out of a trance. Considering he probably experience the same thing when he first met Francis, he probably was lost in his own story as parts of it mirrored hers. He smiled and rose, leaning down to hug each of the girls before bidding them all goodnight. Amelia walked him to the door as Alice and Marianne rushed to get dressed for bed.

"Thank you." He murmured, smiling at her. She nodded, telling him goodnight before gently closing the door, turning her attention to the task of bedtime.


	7. Chapter 7

_The dirt and grime from the trenches stuck to her hands as she grabbed the soldier, pulling him back from the edge and towards the small cot on the other side. Even though her mask, the man reeked of gas and other substances she was becoming all too familiar with. He moaned something unintelligible, his hair caked with mud, making it impossible to tell his hair color. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She kept repeating, although she wasn't sure why she was apologizing. It was too loud for her to even hear herself think, but the man's screams somehow managed to pierce straight though the noise to her very core, completely shaking her nerves. She watched as four doctors grabbed the cot and dragged it towards the small wagon they were using, all screaming different directions at the same time. Then, it all went silent. She watched the movements of the men around her as if she were stuck in time. The guns, the explosions, nothing made a sound, except for one clear voice, whispering her name. She turned, her emotions mixing at the very sight of him. His light blonde hair stuck to his face, dirty and stringy. Large chunks of mud were smeared across his face and uniform, dulling the color of his cheeks and jacket. She almost hadn't recognized him, if it hadn't been for those eyes. Those beautiful, freedom blue eyes were filled with confusion and worry as he scanned her, not knowing why she was there. Recognition followed soon and she turned for him to fully see her nursing uniform, but the worry remaining. He walked towards her, reaching out for her, but stopped short and turned, apparently called by some order she could not hear. He looked back at her one more time, something in his hand falling towards the ground, before he sprinted off in the opposite direction, silently screaming with his rifle in hand, towards the billowing smoke in no man's land. A single shot pierced the silence, ringing clearly in her ears and tearing her heart to shreds. She looked down to what he had dropped. There, in the mud, was the bright crimson ribbon he had always used to tie his hair back. As she picked it up, she felt her fingertips go numb and her chest shatter. She wrapped it around her hand and clutched it tight, sobs wracking her body but the tears absent from her face. She didn't have to turn and look towards the settling dust. She knew, in her heart, he was gone._

Amelia awoke at the sound of her alarm clock, her heart stopping for a brief moment. That dream was always the saddest, but it never made her cry. Instead, she felt empty, as if the bullet had went through her own heart. Maybe it had, the scars were still here. She stood, pulling her nightshirt down from where it had ridden up while she tossed and turned. The long silk ribbon still sat upon her night-stand, its color faded and the edges tattered. Sometimes, when she held it close, she thought she could still smell the gun smoke from that day. But she knew it was just her imagination, it had to be. She held it gently, bringing it to her lips before placing it back down with revelry, smiling as two little figures made their way into her bedroom.

"Good morning girls!" She exclaimed, putting on her happy face to meet the day. Alice smiled back, jumping up onto the bed, her long hair falling out of her pig-tails and piling on her shoulders.

"We are going today, right?" The Brit exclaimed, trying and failing to contain her excitement.

Amelia did her best to look shocked, pausing in her movements to add to the effect. "Going where today?"

The look that crossed Alice's face was near priceless and Amelia couldn't keep up the facade for long. She bent down, jumping onto the bed alongside the girl.

"Only if you can defeat me, the tickle monster!" she roared, earning a rather flustered squeal and laughter from the child. The American pounced on her daughter, tickling just under her ears and arms. Alice squealed and laughed, struggling for several minutes before she managed to roll away from Amelia and stand on the opposite side of the room. Amelia shook her hair out of her face, sitting back on her knees when something hit her from behind.

"I shall rule!" Marianne declared as she jumped on her mother, the force of the impact knocking a rather surprised Amelia back on the bed. Amelia twisted, catching the French girl as she tried her hand at tickling.

"Oh no you don't!" She cried, picking the blue-eyed child up by her foot and flipping her over. She pinned her gently on the bed, blowing rasberries on her stomach when Alice decided to rejoin the fight, grabbing her mother's leg and attempting to pull her off the bed. Amelia looked back for a split second, accidently allowing Marianne to attach to her neck, blinding her in a sea of blond hair. Amelia laughed as she tried to untangle herself, Alice surprisingly managing to pull her closer to the edge of the bed.

"Umm..I kinda let myself in…" came a voice from near the door. Matthew smiled as he walked in, shocked and surprised at the sight before him. He had come over early that morning, hoping to talk to Amelia in private while the girls were still asleep. But, he had to admit, this was a nice turn of events. He loved Amelia's laugh, although he rarely got to hear it. It had a very distinct sound. Not quite carefree, but full of bliss none the less.

"Dude help! I'm being double teamed!" She called out in mock panic, barely able to get the sentences out from laughing so hard. Matthew laughed a little sheepishly as he grabbed Alice's hands, attempting to detach her from Amelia's leg as the woman struggled to pull Marianne off of her neck. Alice smiled at him as she let go, only to jump and grab the Canadian's neck at the last minute. Matthew gasped as he stumbled forwards, not expecting her to latch on. He managed to catch her with his hip though, balancing her without too much of a struggle. They watched as Amelia tried and eventually succeeded in doing the same with Marianne, wrapping her arm firmly around the highly persistent six-year old. As she finally managed to restrain the girl, she smiled in accomplishment and welcome at Matthew, only to frown slightly at the way he was blushing. Matthew looked like a teenager caught sneaking a girl in the house for the first time. She stared at him for a few minutes, confused, before she realized she was still in her night attire, which consisted of nothing more than an old T-shirt and a pair of cheerleading shorts. And no bra. She blushed twice as bright as he had, ushering the girls out and nearly pushing him out the door as well.

Matthew stared silently at the door, his eyes side, until he heard a small giggle from behind him. He smiled back at Marianne, who seemed to know exactly what had happened. His blush darkened and he searched for words to defend himself until they both noticed Alice, who was staring at her sister as if she had lost her mind.

"What?" Marianne asked, her lips forming into a pout as Matthew quietly corrected her to speak in French.

"Leave 'im alone!"

"Did you see momma blush?"

"Shut up about it!"

"Girls, why don't we start today's lesson already…" Matthew suggested, trying to break things up before they actually went at each other. The attempt, though, gained him a strange look from both of them.

"I guess mom forgot to tell him…"

"Tell me what, Alice" He looked back and forth between them, not noticing Amelia slip back into the room.

"Oh, sorry. We are going to get tea in the Plaza today. Then go to the art museum. Its their treat for working so hard."

Matthew spun around, giving a relieved sigh at the sight of a fully dressed Amelia. He nodded, swaying back and forth on his heels awkwardly. He guessed that was his cue to go back to the hotel. Or go back home for the weekend. He nodded as he turned towards the door, only to have two small hands grasp his.

"You are going with us" The girls commanded in unison, surprising both Matthew and Amelia. He looked towards her for approval, only to be met with a smile and a nod.

"Alright then"


	8. Chapter 8

The morning had been rather slow, considering tea was usually in the afternoon. It gave them enough time to sit and enjoy the morning before rushing off, but nowhere near enough time to start another French lesson, much to Matthew's dismay. Marianne was doing fine in her learning, but the key to remembering something was constant recollection. So, with a small bit of bickering with a rather stubborn Amelia, he managed to convince them all to use French, at least until they left the house. Amelia didn't quite have the heart to tell him they had been doing so for at least a few hours every day, considering how happy Matthew looked when they actually followed his instructions. Besides, he had proposed a deal she couldn't really refuse. Sure, she could try and cook a breakfast all four of them would agree on. But no one could resist the lure of Matthew's pancakes, which he purposefully hand-made from scratch. Even though Amelia was super proud of how well her own cooking had gotten, she held no contest to that! So she graciously gave up without much of a struggle, just a small bit of bickering to make him think she wasn't letting him take over or anything. Nope, nothing like that.

Soon after the smell drifted out of the kitchen, though, Amelia wasn't the only one hooked. Both of the girls wandered in, their noses in the air like the rich girl on a bad sitcom. They caught their mother sitting on the counter, her eyes resting on the tall Canadian working at the stove. Amelia couldn't help but watch him, nobody could. Every bit of shyness and social-awkwardness in Matthew left as soon as the stove came on. He looked nothing short of confident, moving as if he knew every spare inch of the kitchen, although Amelia was sure she had never allowed him to cook in there before. She had to be honest with herself; Matthew turned cooking into an art. The thought made her smile, but the smell made her mouth water. She stretched as far as she could, trying to look over his shoulder to see if the food was anywhere near ready. Matthew turned around as she did so, causing her to shrink back like a colony caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her expression sent Marianne into a fit of giggles, the small French girl clutching her sister as she did her best to stay standing. Alice just looked smugly at her mother, who decided to act younger than her daughters by sticking her tongue out, causing Marianne to fall to the floor from laughing so hard.

Matthew shook his head, having a pretty good idea of what had happened but too into his cooking to give much more acknowledgement than that. He kept glancing at Amelia every second he could spare, though. He couldn't help himself. Seeing her with Alice and Marianne was quickly becoming one of his favorite sights. He didn't know why, it was just something in the way she moved around them. He nearly burnt his pancakes while watching her, barely turning around just in time.

"They're ready," he announced in French, smiling and turning around, successfully ending the small struggle between the three girls now ensuing on the floor.

Tea at the plaza had been a pleasant experience for all four of them. The atmosphere had managed to keep Marianne entertained while Alice enjoyed the tea and pastries. It took a little while to get the Brit settled down after she saw the long list of available teas, the normally calm, quiet child chattering nonstop about which tea she was going to try. After several minutes of changing her mind and one mildly irritated waiter coming going through three order slips, they finally decided to each get a different type of tea and let her sip out of their cups. Which is how Amelia ended up with a burnt tongue and a rather large stain on her shirt that smelled faintly of chai. And how she ended up wearing Matthew's jacket to the museum. She didn't really mind, it just came with having two kids, although she had expected to be past that stage by now. But it wasn't really Alice's fault she reached for the tea and the same time Marianne decided to point out, literally, the sculpture on the wall. She wasn't really angry, although she wasn't looking forwards to the dry-cleaning bill. Still, they had a nice time. That was, until they got to the museum.

The tall sculptures and detailed paintings brought back a buzz of memories that, while slightly painful, were not completely unwelcome. Amelia sighed as she made her way down the hall, Alice resting heavily on her hip. The little Brit would point at a work, blinking rapidly at Amelia as her mother surprised both her and Matthew by describing the history behind each piece that caught the girl's attention. Amelia surprised herself, not realizing she had retained so much information from the nights spent on Francis's couch, flipping through the pages of art history books as he attempted to teach her his history. Lessons she would, eventually, have to relay to Marianne. She looked back, smiling at the French child before returning her attention to the painting Alice had just reached out to touch. Marianne was clinging to Matthew's hand while straining to see each painting as fast as she could. Her eyes were wide, darting from work to work, trying to decide which one she wanted to examine and try to replicate first. She caught sight of a rather small painting near the corner, its colors bright and vibrant, allowing the piece to hold its own weight against the much larger occupants of the room. She looked up at Matthew and back to the painting, frowning slightly at her own predicament. She figured it wasn't very far so her mom and Mr. Williams probably wouldn`'t mind. Besides, she only wanted a look. She pulled away gently, waiting a few seconds to see if Matthew would notice the absence of her small hand in his, before dashing off to the other side of the room, smiling at the painting that had grabbed her attention unlike any of the works they had seen so far.

Matthew flowed behind Amelia as the drifted from hallway to hallway. He tried his best to listen to what she was saying, art being a rather enjoyable subject for him. But, for some odd reason, he kept getting distracted. He couldn't help it, he really couldn't. But the way she looked, excited and slightly flushed, her eyes lighting up as she pointed out each piece that caught her fancy. She was breathtaking, a realization that startled him to his very core. She wasn't supposed to be this woman in front of him, commanding the attention of every person who passed by them without so much as saying a word. She was supposed to be Amelia, the goofy, stubborn little girl who always gave Arthur a hard time and hid Matthew's hockey sticks when she didn't want to be dragged out into the freezing cold to play with him.

He watched as she turned, smiling bright, her eyes warm, towards him to say something. Something in her eyes changed though, first to confusion, then to horror. Confused and slightly frightened, he instinctually squeezed Marianne hand, only to find it wasn't in his like it had been several minutes ago. His eyes went wide and he looked down, confirming the absence of the small French girl. "I…I" he stuttered, his fist opening and closing around thin air. Amelia grabbed him, grasping his shoulder with her free hand.

"Matthew where…"

His eyes snapped up as he tried his best to think back, "I don't know, I thought she was right beside me. She could not have gone far"

Amelia eyes were filled with panic, her voice shaking slightly, "Matthew that's my daughter!"

He cupped her face, doing his best to keep calm. "We will find her" he insisted before pulling her back down the hallway to retrace their steps.

((Sorry its been so long! I have excuses but I won't bore you with them! Instead, have some, I mean just a tiny amount, of AmeCan! Sorry...))


End file.
